Spiderman is dead: the aftermath
by Agent Silver
Summary: I did not know my reason for killing him. I knew who he was, I knew that he was not the kind of person who would do it. I knew it. But I still killed him. Song 'Getting away with murder' by Papa Roach Complete!
1. Genesis 4:8

Spiderman is dead: The story afterwards

* * *

_Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness_

_I need to calculate what creates my own madness_

_And I'm addicted to your punishment_

_And you're the master, and I am waiting for disaster..._

Electric blue eyes stare up at me.

It wasn't a cold look, but it wasn't lively and warm either-- just empty. Empty of life. The eyes didn't blink or flinch, and every second I look upon his eyes it gives me this cold feeling down my spine, colder than the metal tentacles that fused behind my back.

He looked cold too, and pale. His mouth was open, but no sign of oxygen came out. Small streaks of blood drips on every bruise I gave him, by the lips and forehead.

My two flesh-and-blood hands held his neck but loosened the squeeze grip. I suddenly found it's hard to breathe. It was like the ghost of this boy choking me back.

This boy...I've always wanted to capture this look. To watch this...boy, in which I've always thought was a man...die with a spice of shock and horror added to his face.

But I didn't want it to be this person. More than anyone in the world. He had a perfect opportunity for a better future.

He was brilliant, but lazy...on the second thought, he wasn't lazy at all. Just too busy. It had to be this boy, and innocent enough that would never kill. And I killed him with my bare hands. Peter Parker. The brilliant but lazy kid.

I killed Spiderman.

I release his neck entirely, now staring at the horrible red blood that is wet in my hands. They were Peter's blood. I strangled him to death.

I kept taking gulps of air, find it hard to breathe. Am I feeling guilt? This is a boy that could've lived a better future. But I wasted it. Am I feeling guilt?

No, I should be happy. I finally got my revenge. He killed my Rosie, my love and wife. Did he? Why do I feel doubt? Am I feeling guilt?

Yes...I do.

Tears threatened to spill. I began to touch Peter's dead face, restoring him warmth, hoping that it would bring him back to life. My god, what have I done?

"P-peter?" I softly whisper, almost to a whimper. Oh god, what did I do?

Why must it come this way? Why did I do this? How could this happen? I don't know how I got here, I don't know how I did this, and I don't know how it came to the bottom of this way.

But I do know one thing entirely: Everything's not okay. Everything's never okay. My tentacles comfort me, telling me everything is alright, everything's okay, but in the end, everything's not okay.

I'm a scientist, someone who vowed to work to help in the behalf of mankind. I worked on a project that would've won me Nobel Prize and me and Rosie would've lived happily in the future.

And this boy had warned me. He knew it would happen. And I didn't listen. I end up killing him.

I then started to run my hands through Peter's hair, feeling his golden brown hair. I killed him. This boy. He's dead. He's lying down in front of me, with his blood all over my hands. I killed him. I caused him pain...

**You know he deserved it father, the tentacles tell me. He caused you pain in the first place. He killed your Rosie.**

"No," I speak fiercely, putting my two hands on his head lifting it up. "No! Peter never deserved it! He was only trying to help people out! Those shattered glasses killed Rosie! I...killed Rosie..."

I placed my head down Peter's chest, trying to find a heartbeat and crying in regret. I've been selfish all this time, killing everyone I knew and once knew.

Who's next? Curt Connors and Harry Osborn? All my distant friends and families? All my pupils that I taught and studied science with? Peter's girlfriend, Mary Jane?

Will I kill myself?

I tried that once. It didn't work. The tentacles saved me...why did they! If they didn't, Peter would've lived by now! None of this would've happened!

**Don't say that father!**

"Shut up." I cried in Peter's chest, rethinking all I've ever done. Why did I kill him? I knew he was Spiderman, but the...tentacles convinced me to go after Peter and avenge Rosie. They're controlling me! They'll make me kill again and again, until I cannot go on!

"P-peter."

I'm a scientist, not a monster. Not a killer or madman. These arms talk to me, telling me to rebuild a failed experiment that could've destroyed my home. They comfort me, telling me that everything's alright.

But everything is not alright Two different people I cared and knew died because of me, Peter Parker and my wife, Rosie Octavius. Everything was not alright.

To be continued...

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Review!


	2. Genesis 4:15

Spiderman is dead: The story afterwards pt. II

* * *

_I feel irrational, so confrontational_

_To tell the truth I am getting away with murder!_

_It is impossible to never tell the truth_

_But the reality is I'm getting away with murder!_

_Getting away, getting away, getting away..._

* * *

I lifted my head. We're in the middle of a street.

Groups of people surround us, they have watched me kill their hero...they watched how ferocious I was and lethal... and they watched me feeling guilt...

Sounds of sirens were heard. My tentacles tell me that I shouldn't stay long. Should I turn myself in, despite my arms' cries?

Everyone was quiet and pale, everyone around me.

Some were in silent tears, but none made a sound, even the innocent children. They all saw how I killed their hero...Spiderman.

Parts of the crowd moved away. Were they moving in fear for their lives? No. They were moving out the way for the authorities to come by.

Should I spend a life in prison? Do I? I'm a scientist, not a criminal. Not a murderer. These creations are. These monsters are, the artificial intelligence that I have created are the criminals. These deserve the punishment.

But they need me...and I need them...to live.

So what am I going to do? I'm going to get away with murder.

I killed Peter. With my own flesh and blood hands. Not the tentacles.

They didn't even touch one hair on him. I killed him. And I don't even feel good...

I got up as the police approaches, each with shocked faces of their dead hero, and scared glances at me. They think that I would kill them.

But I won't. I've done enough sins in my lifetime. I shall not kill again.

Should I turn myself in, because I deserve the punishment? But I feel that not even life in jail would be enough for these arms. For myself.

So I'm going to get away with murder.

I started to run in the opposite direction of where the police were. Their shock recovered, and they all aimed their guns at me and started firing.

Whether they were doing it for orders or revenge, I wasn't sure. I deserve whateverbullet I received.

And when I ran, a large mob of scared, but angry and brave people ran after me, angry of what I've done.

They ran, some holding bats or pipes, others shooting with their own guns.

Most of them were men, and most of the women that held the children away from the whole mess. They don't deserve to ruin their innocence of witnessing their hero die.

And I ran, and I kept running, away from the mob, away from the police, away from the dead Peter Parker, away from my mechanical arms, and especially from myself.

I need a place to hide, a place for my head, a place for me to cry of what I've done, a place where I can punish myself for doing such a thing.

But first I must get away with the murder.

* * *

You'll have to understand that I'm making these chapters short. I call'em mini-chapters.

Anyway, I'd like to say Merry Chirstmas to you all (I might try and make a christmas fic) in case I would not be there to say it. I'll be out of town and try to work as hard as I can.

**To the 'Of Honeys and Bees' reviewers**: You'll have to forgive the delay for _Octopus High_. I haven't thought up a plot, and I think the idea is strange enough. You'll have to wait until spring.

One more notice: I know you guys hate spam as much as I do, (Spamming must die) but I'm advertising to Doc Ock fans ofa message board if you guys want to 

Please tell me if the link doesn't work.

Review plz!


	3. Acts 13:41

Spiderman is dead: The story afterwards pt. III

* * *

_I drink my drink and I don't even want to_

_I think my thoughts when I don't even need to_

_I never look back cause I don't even want to_

_And I don't need to, because I'm getting away with murder

* * *

_

I found myself in the dark side of New York City, where nobody cares and people are broken, and people like me.

But I'm not the same, because there is nobody as messed up and as broken as me, and it scares me because I became broken in such short amount of time.

I found a rundown building, a building where nobody cares to look in, to be in. It's empty.

And as I sat in a corner of a dark room, some 20 something stories high, I sat, drinking bottles and bottles of strong alcohol, because I stole them and they calm my troubles away. They don't make me forget my past, but they lure my mind away, other than working.

My mechanical arms are confused, they think I should celebrate. That's why they stole the beer bottles, because they have learned that drinking could be used in special occasions. But they see me miserable, as I've always been, and they do not understand why.

They think I avenged everything about my life, my love, and dream. But killing one innocent boy does not do any good at all.

Oh, what would Rosie think? She'd might understand, but she'd think I'm a disgrace. She would think that I'm not Otto, the one she remembers.

She'd think that I'm Doctor Octopus, or Doc Ock, the killer and criminal that has done selfish sins. She'd think I deserve to rot in hell, despite of all I've done. I might as well agree.

"Oh Rosie..." I whispered, as my thoughts kept turning to her. My stomach made a knot, and my throat found it hard to breathe through.

Pretty soon, my eyes water, and I began to sob...

Oh Rosie...Rosie...what have I done? What. Have. I. Done? I'm not the man I used to be, I'm not that friendly and happy man I once were, that same smart and innocent scientist you once loved.

You must hate me now. I don't blame you. Everyone hates me now. I even hate myself. Damn, since when did this all happen? Since when did it all start? All I remember was doing something that would've been beneficial, but in the end it hurt.

Just in the middle of my musings, I threw a half-empty beer bottle across the room, and it crashed by the wall, and it shattered. I could watch as the blur and fading outside light reflects off the tiny pieces. The lights looked pretty to my drunken mind.

Realizing I could do something about it, I stood up and took one broken piece, a large one that was wet with alcohol.

My tentacles have no idea what I was about to do, they have no idea of why I gotten the glass piece the first place. I pulled up my sleeve.

**What are you doing, father?** They asked, wondering. I didn't answer them. I silently placed the wet, dirty, sharp glass on the center of my arm and dug in it deep. The tentacles were confused.

**What are you doing father?!**

**That could hurt you know!**

**Do you know you're harming yourself with that shard directly in your veins? That is essential to your life!**

But I didn't care. I dug it in deeper. I felt pain, and it created a large cut, and small streaks of blood bled out. It hurts, but I'm numb, and that's the joy of it. I began to draw a straight line over it, and began to enjoy and smile at this pain. It's easing something, and I grin, enjoying it. This is my punishment, and I'm growing addicted to it, because I started writing above that long line.

_Murderer._

And I smile and I enjoy it, loving the neat, metal-music-like scratched up design of the letters. Blood ran down freely, and I don't deserve a single cell of the blood, and I don't bother to clean it. My tentacles were confused, and they beg for me to stop it.

I ignore them. This has happened for the rest of the night, and when I've lost so much blood, I passed out. My tentacles cleaned up the blood, cleaned up the glass shards and alcohol, and began to head on out for a drugstore to steal a first aid kit.

And I was unconscious the whole time.

* * *

Oh yeah, the chapters' names are supposely bible verses...but since they were long, I decided to narrow them down to that way. Give or take, grab a bible and search through!

Okay. Go ahead and review-- and also read my Christmas fic! Yeah, Merry Christmas ppl! (I swear, I promise you, that is the last time I'll say it!)

Remember: I'm makin' mini-chapters! It is short for a reason! Expect another chapter soon...


	4. Matthew 25:46

Spiderman is dead: the story afterwards pt. IV

* * *

_I feel irrational, so confrontational_

_To tell the truth I am getting away with murder_

_It is impossible to never tell the truth_

_But the reality is I'm getting away with murder

* * *

_

I slept in an empty alleyway for the rest of the night, because a cop saw my tentacles take me outside, and they dared not to hide back there.

But when I woke up, the news of Peter Parker being dead was spread everywhere, like a disease.

It was everywhere, by newspaper, TV, radio, and even people gossiped to those that were living under a rock. They would say that Peter wasn't really Spiderman, and that he was still alive out there, just somewhere else. They couldn't accept the fact that Spiderman is finally dead. But it was inevitable. It was my fault.

But the whole noisy street of New York was quiet, because they know the very being that was their protector is no longer there, to protect them when they needed that protection.

And it was all in the fault of me, because I have killed their protector, and now everyone moans for him.

Even the same idiot that kept throwing words at Spiderman of how he is a menace moans for him. They offered a moment of silence in every hour, and they would talk non-stop of how he has saved the lives of millions of people, and how that Spiderman is really Peter Parker.

"I was really surprised to see that Spiderman has died," Jonah Jameson said on the TV. "But what really pushed me was that it was the same photographer that was behind the mask. And Parker was such a good kid, I sure wished that all those words were taken back."

Well, happy now? He's gone, just as you wanted, I thought, standing in front of a TV shop. I wore a different colored trenchcoat, black. No one recognized me. They were too busy with their lives or just talking about Spiderman.

And now, I'm just too busy, wondering what would happen if he didn't die. What would happen if I had stayed dead? Peter would've been out, saving more than he has by now. But people are hurting, because it was my fault, and I killed the one they needed. I was an idiot.

I was an idiot to let the arms control me.

I was an idiot to not be strong enough to stay sane. But everything was a blur, they told me their opinions, and I believed them. I was an idiot to recreate the machine. I was an idiot to say that it'll stabilize, when I knew something was wrong. I was an idiot to not listen to Peter when he warned me that I would blow up the city.

I was an idiot to listen to the arms, when it was clear that it wasn't Peter's fault the begin with. I am so selfish.

The tentacles asked me why I became a cutter last night, and I explained them everything. They felt clear of my feelings even if they were machines, not capable to feel.

**But why father? They caused you so much pain, they don't deserve to live**.

_That's wrong. There are millions of innocents people out there who are just scared, and the only thing that is to blame about my pain is myself. I did this to myself, and there's no denying._

I hurt myself. I hurt everyone, especially Peter. I cut myself, I drowned myself, I mentally beat myself up, and among every other things.

I'm a selfish sinner, not caring for anyone but myself. I have hurt, I have killed, and I have murdered and got away with it.

They're holding a huge funeral at the end of this week. I'm going to attend it for Peter, and beg him for forgiveness, and I would pay my respects. He was such an innocent boy, just a friendly-neighbor who wanted to help out. That's all. It shouldn't make a huge conflict about helping out, but it did. It killed him. I killed him. And I'm to blame.

I'm going to attend Peter's funeral.

* * *

Damn. I just posted the last chappie without viewing my reviews and the chapter before that...what kind of fanfic writer am I? Oh well...everyone makes mistakes...

About the link...well...cursed thing won't allow links! Okay, just look in my home page. That should do it!

Responses:

**Moonjava**: Hmm...someone else said that in my other fic (Doc Ock suite) Creepy...but thanks for the complement!

**sdafsadf**: ...I don't trust you to be Mary Jane. lol okay, maybe I do. (and about the slash thing, how could you love a dead guy? Anyways, Otto's heart will belong to Rosie's and always will be. But I must admit, I did kinda made it slashy. I won't do it again.)

**LordLanceahlot**: ...'never judge a book by its cover' I always say. Don't worry,you're going to find that Pete will play good role for Otto's future-- like a particular someone who introduced 'with great power comes great responsibility'...

**Anonymous-cat**: Because I was lazy. No, actually, I couldn't think of a better title, and then I spotted my bible and muttered "hmm..." And maybe because I'm lazy.

**Everyone else**: 16 reviews for2 chapters! I have never thought that could be possible! I think I need to make more Otto-Peter (not slash!) fics with them at the same rate often!

Oh yeah, and I force Otto to make that Santa belly laugh!

Otto: Ho ho ho. you're such a hoe.

Me: (jumps into lap) Sure. Now gimme a Game boy XP!

see ya.


	5. Titus 2:14

Spiderman is dead: the story afterwards pt. V

_Getting away, getting away, getting away…_

_Getting away, getting away, getting away..._

_(With Murder!!)

* * *

_

There was a reason why there is a song called 'gloomy Sunday'... everything was so melancholy at the funeral. Everyone wore black...even me as I wore my trenchcoat and black hat.

The sky was so gray that I have never seen it like that before. A lot of people came, almost like the whole city. The whole thing started at about 9 AM, and today is a Sunday.

Luckily I came early, so I was able to be in the front. We started at the funeral home, and since there was so much people, there were cameras everywhere, and there were TVs outside, for the people who couldn't get inside the building.

I was among those inside, and these people in charge had us line up single file so each of us would pay our respects. It took a little while for me to finally reach to Peter, if you compare to those outside, but I finally got there. It was quiet, and only sounds of sobbing filled the air. I held back tears. I didn't want to be known too much.

Peter was inside a coffin alright, a black one. Alot of flowers surrounded it, but seeing that there were tons of other people out there holding a flower each, you can say that by the time it was over, it'll look like a fieldful of flowers.

Peter wore a black suit, and his eyes were closed, so I wouldn't be able to see his blue eyes again. An oversized picture frame was up beside him, containing his Spider-man costume. It was up there for the world to see that Peter Parker is Spider-man.

I had two roses in my pocket. Both of them were freshly grown. One of them is for Peter...and the other will be for Rosie, once this is finished with. I took one out and smelt it for a minute...then looked sadly at the dead corpse in front of me. Peter was so quiet...so peaceful. Why did I kill him? I was a jerk, a big, big jerk...and was stupid too.

"I know that I shouldn't be here...with this wanted price tag on my head...." I whispered, smiling sadly. "But I want to let you know Peter...I'm so sorry...you have told me over and over, and you have saved my life once too! I..I just didn't think...didn't know what to do. Please forgive me...I was lost and confused...I never meant it...you know I didn't..."

I closed my eyes and bent down to his coffin, and placed the rose by the other flowers. I then stood up and walked off to join the others, so we'll be prepared for when we're ready to let the coffin down six feet under.

Remember the words in Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events? "If you have lost a loved one, then you would know how it feels. If you haven't...it is the pain beyond your imagination." Thus is true.

(And what Otto didn't know, was that the same girl he have kidnapped, named Mary Jane Watson, have heard him...but she didn't say anything...)

It took almost a whole day for the whole city to pay their respects to the one hero. But we did it. It was sunfall, and we were ready to...bury him...

Unfortunately, only those who were invited was allowed to watch him go under. No press, no citizens, only the people that Peter really knew. Unfortunately, I wasn't among those invited...

But I was among those who were in the crowd that was outside the funeral home. We formed a huge space for the men that would be carrying the coffin all the way to Peter's reserved spot.

What's even more depressing...is that it was raining. Luckily I had my hat on.

**Father...** the arms speak for the first time in the whole day. They sounded like a whisper.

_Hm_? I thought.

**These people...they are so depressing...**

**We never seen them like this before.**

**When people die...they always act like this?**

_Of course they do, I thought back to them. When one person lose a loved one, they will not see him or her in a long time...it is hard to handle that they are gone from them. Why do you think I moan for Rosie?_

They were quiet at my answer. It felt like forever, when these men were carrying Peter and passing by me.

A large black man (Robbie) held the front left. J. Jonah Jameson held the middle left. A geeky guy (Hoffman) held the back left. My old friend Curtis Conners, even though he had only one arm, held the back right, and Harry Osborn held the front right. They were missing someone, but they were strong enough to hold it all...

But it was until Osborn, who cried uncontrollably, lost touch of reality. He let go of the coffin, causing it to fall---

But I reacted, and jumped from the crowd and caught it on time. People had gasped in reaction, and sighed when I caught the coffin on time. Osborn looked up at me, and hopefully he didn't recognize me from behind sunglasses.

"Be careful...Harry..." I whispered hoarsly. Another man from the crowd helped the boy up. He kept staring at me, but I try to avoid his glare. I'm also surprised that Curt haven't recognized me yet either...

"Go on lad, finish it..." one of the men in the crowd said to Osborn, shoving him forward. The boy reluctantly held the front right. I held the middle.

I knew Osborn didn't have a spine for anything. He yet cried like a baby. Maybe I should respect that, he probably felt guilty for thinking about killing Spiderman, who is secretly his best friend.

I was aware of his obsession with killing Spiderman when I made that devil's deal with him. Must be because of his father's death...and now, he lost both of them. He lost both; his father and his best friend.

I honestly wanted to sob myself. But I held all tears...I have cried for far too long. I helped the men lead Peter's coffin to his grave, but even that didn't help me grab a chance to watch him go down.

"I'm sorry sir..." a guard said to me. He had a strong british accent. "You don't have permission to stay."

I didn't want to leave, to tell the truth. For some unknown reason...and I wanted to fight with this guy, to stay here. I even want to let the actuators out.

"B-but..." I argued.

**Let's get him for you father!**

**You want to see Peter, and he is in your way!**

"He can have my permission."

Both me and the guard turned around, and saw Mary Jane. The guard nodded and left off, to patrol somewhere else.

I didn't speak. I couldn't speak. The natural redhead walked up to me and nodded.

"I know who you are, Otto..." Mary Jane whispered so no one else could hear.

I gulped loudly. Oh boy...and I was so close to being unnoticed! Oh god...I wish I was somewhere else right now. I wish that God would open a big whole in the ground and swallow me up, or something. I want to be anywhere else but here, to face Peter Parker's girlfriend.

"I know what you did...and I know why..." she said to me. She looked so cold...so pale...

"Mary Jane..."

"I now know why you're here. Peter told me tons about you. He told me about you before your accident and after. He was the only living person in the world that knew what was behind those metal arms, who knew who you are and were. He studied you for a while, and learned how those things behind you are 'alive'. Why are you here? You know the answer to the question, do you?" tears threatened to spill her face.

My breathing became harsh. It was uneasy to talk to her. "I...I killed him...it was all my fault. If only--"

Mary Jane placed a finger tip on my lips and nodded no. "No, you came here, Otto, because you want to show Peter that Doctor Octopus is gone, and forever will be. Peter was the only one who believed that 'Otto' is still somewhere in there," Mary Jane placed her hand on my cheek, "and always hoped that, someday his hero would emerge back to the surface and always follow these words he taught him, 'brilliance is not just a gift, but a privledge used to help mankind'."

Was Peter the only one who understood me? I have done alot of mistakes in my past...and yet Peter still believed in me? The brilliant but lazy kid?

A tear escaped my left eye after I blinked once. Mary Jane smiled sadly, and nudged me to come and join the others to watch Peter Parker fall six feet underground. Among those who watched was me, Mary Jane, the leading staff of the Daily Bugle that Peter knew, Curtis, the pastor, and this old lady, whom I find strangely familiar.

"You...won't tell anyone, will you?" I whisper to the girl.

"Of course not...I will tell only on Doctor Octopus, not Doctor Octavius."

Peter must have always believed in me because, if this woman have been listening to him very closely, her words hold such meaning, and it just makes me realize.

Each of us cried among the spoken lines of the Pastor, who spoke so softly and uneasily.

And then we watched the last of the corpse of Peter Benjamin Parker, the brilliant but lazy, the devoted scientist, the good-hearted neighbor, the protective lover, and the reluctant but dedicated hero.

A ghostly voice echoed in the back of my head, and I knew who it belonged to.

_**"With great power, comes great responsibility."

* * *

**_

Well, this certainly look long!Um...if it sucked, you'll have to forgive me, because I feel all jittery and stuff while I was typing the damn thing! (Don't ever, ever, ever go outside in the cold without a jacket on for 15 minutes and eat some ice cream 2-3 hours later when you come back in! I did it and I couldn't even think!)

Oh, and Spidey did save Otto once, if you could recall the Spiderman 2 novelization when he was nearly kidnapped by some evil robot whatchamacallits.

Happy Holidays everyone! (Okay, I'll stop saying it this time. I promise.) Bonzai!

Cheers,

Agent Silver


	6. Psalm 22:1 and 2

Spiderman is dead: the story afterwards pt. VI

_Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness_

_I need to calculate what creates my own madness_

_And I'm addicted to your punishments_

_And I'm your master, and I am craving this disaster_

* * *

I stood over Rosie's grave. 

Everything was peaceful, and quiet. The sky was still gray, as it has rained earlier, and I can predict it'll rain later. I look over to her grave, reading the names and the dates—her birth date and her...death date.

I swallowed, and took out my second rose and bent down on my knee. I placed it over the ground in front of the grave stone. I removed my black, leather hat and placed it down.

"Hello...Rosie..." I whispered. I took my right index and middle finger stuck together and kissed it, then blew it over to her grave.

The actuators were quiet, they knew at a moment like this they had to stay out of it. What have I done Rosie? What have I done my dear Rose? I remember, before that accident, I was willing to help people. It wasn't power I wanted. It wasn't fame. I want people to be happy. Why did this happen? Why did God do this to me?

"Rosie..." I sighed, "if you could only see me now..." I looked down darkly. "I...I didn't mean for all this to go. I feel...I feel lost. I'm lost without you. I need you. You're the only one I know who can keep me in control...keep me sane."

I pounded my fist on the dirt and dug my nails through, panting heavily. I will not cry. I have cried too much. I promised the actuators I will not cry again...don't cry...don't cry...it's not working...Tears fell, and I tried to keep from sobbing. It never worked.

"Rosie..." I cried softly, "I don't know what to do anymore. I'm...I'm hollow. I need you. I need someone to tell me something. I want to do something right for a change. Every time I do something, it always turns out hell for someone else or me. As if I'm unfortunate or bad luck. Am I not supposed to live? Is that it? Is it better if I just drop down dead? I wish it all the time, but it never came true, God never gave me that chance. Do I still have a purpose? What am I supposed to do?"

I stood up, sniffing. I wiped my tears away. I just wish that she would just pop out from underneath the ground and hold me, to tell me it is all right. I wish her spirit would guide me, to tell me what the right things are, instead of these goddamned actuators telling me what to do, what they think is right. But that never happened.

Then, I try and think of what Rosie would look like now, underneath the coffin. Oh God, they were the worst thoughts I have ever thought of. My heart sinks every time I think the thought of her soft, delicate, and beautiful skin, now decaying as time goes on, the worms and other pests eating up away her flesh. I wished they would just cremate her body.

She's dead to the world, and gone to me. Forever. I'll never see her again, that's for sure, as to the fact that I have sinned. I'll be damned to Hell. Just ask anybody. I have killed; I have stolen, kidnapped, and harmed...drowned in my work...I have always been the kind of person who wouldn't do these things. How could a failure of an experiment could do so much harm?

I turned around. "Good bye, my Rose." I whispered, and walked off. I couldn't even say goodbye to her in her last breath. Why did God do this to me? What have I done to suffer? All these sins resulted afterwards of my whole life-changing accident. Why did it fail? Why did it happen? Did it happen for a reason? For a purpose?

I walked away, never looking back again...

2 weeks have passed, and everyone couldn't stop talking about Spider-man. Talk shows, news stories, you name it. The city was in grief, but they moved on. They lived their daily normal, everyday lives.

And the thieves, crooks, criminals...they partied. They took this situation to an advantage. I read in the Daily Bugle, of how the crime percentage just dramatically increased. By more than three-quarters. I wished that I never laid a finger on Peter, as these people didn't have to suffer as much. But now, the city has gone crazy.

The law enforcers couldn't deal with it. It was all too much. You'd have a robbery at one bank when the police force would be over there dealing with it, and 19 others in different other places. Spider-man...he would've taken care of it all by now. They wouldn't have to do this by now.

But I didn't do anything. I sat, in the dark of my new home, an empty apartment in the Bronx, musing through my mind, lost. I haven't moved since I came there, and I meditated, remembering, reminiscing. I lost track of time, I always do, but I know I've been here for a long, long time.

Over the while, even though I didn't mind it much, I had painful headaches and I rarely sleep, even though I'm always tired. I'm also always hungry, but I feel nauseous at the thought of eating. Is this depression? How could I be depressed? I never knew Peter that much...maybe I do?

Maybe, we share so many similarities together, even though he's a spider and I'm an octopus. And Rosie...I never did gather that much time to grieve for her. Now, since my mind is not buried into work, Rosie and Peter are all that fills my mind.

**Father?** An actuator spoke through the cold silence.

_...Hmm?_

**You...should eat.**

The actuators were beginning to worry about my health. They begin to notice the signs, my tiredness, the growling of my stomach, the painful headaches. How could they feel? They are machines. How could they feel the misery and pain I feel? Their AI are mentally connected to me, yes, but I could have never known they'd feel...or they just know.

**Your body needs its nutrients!**

**Plus, you have lost a large amount of blood, and you need your iron as well.**

I never answered to them. I just sat down, lost inside myself, lost in thought. They still nagged at me, but I ignored them. I ignored their cries. They didn't want to die, that's why. They knew that if I die, they will. But how could I live like this? How could they want to live, or rather exist, like this? To go around, connected with someone...broken? I didn't answer them. They continued to argue, to nag.

**We don't want you to die! This is not very healthy for you!**

**You're hungry, you got to be.**

**And you need to sleep! Your mind cannot go clearly like this!**

**We know you moan for your Rosie and Parker. But this isn't worth it.**

**They know the reason why you did it. It was an accident!**

**Though, #3, Parker weren't an accident. It was revenge! Vengeance that was complete!**

**#1, if it was vengeance, Father wouldn't be as miserable as this.**

**Let us sneak out and steal food from the nearby store! You must be hungry! You need your minerals and vitamins! Or else it'll make you feel worst**!

**Father, your health is very essential to your life. Please do not abuse it.**

That made me angry. Essential to my life? Essential...to my...life? Maybe perhaps they meant _their's_?! They've been selfish, thinking about themselves!

I wanted to die, to be free, but they wanted to live, to use me, to satisfy their petty revenge and anger. They only grieve me. They only brought me pain. They are the evil behind all of this.

"What do you mean, 'essential to your life'?" I spat angrily, my voice cracking. It was hard to speak after so long. My voice just came booming.

"Maybe you mean to _your_ life? Maybe, you wanted me to live, so you could have your revenge on Spider-man, because your purpose failed! If I had my own free will, I wouldn't have to be this way! Now, because of you, I'll be damned to Hell, and you won't have to suffer because you are only machines! A bunch of inanimate objects! A bunch of things I created, for the sole purpose of helping me! To do things right!"

The arms were quiet. They lowered down, like a sad, punished puppy, and I could tell they were sad and upset.

**...But father...**

**You killed Parker with your bare hands...**

I flinched. That was true. I did kill Peter myself. I choked him, robbing out his oxygen. The arms held back his body, while I had plenty of room to kill him.

I gulped. "You're right..." I whispered darkly, "I...I did kill Peter by myself..."

**It's okay father!**

**You're in not one of those good moods!**

**By that doesn't mean you have to suffer some more and do this to yourself!**

**Think, you don't know what Rosie would think! She wouldn't want you hurting like this, no matter how evil you've become!**

They're right. Not always, but they made their point. Rosie wouldn't want me to do this. And, according to Mary Jane, neither would Peter. As much as I have done wrong to them, they wouldn't want me to suffer.

"Alright...we'll stop by a near store..." I said, grabbing my coat.

**We'll have to steal father!**

**Will you be okay with that?**

I paused. I have sinned so greatly, so why stop now? No one can escape the great inevitable anyway. I'll be damned to Hell anyway. I have killed and stolen...no need to stop now.

_Yes,_ I thought to them.

Then I left the building, greeted by the bright shining sun, that burns my eyes. I wore my shades, and my trenchcoat, and walked along the busy streets of the city.

* * *

Haaapppppyyyyy Neeeewwww Yyyeeeaarr!!!! Whoo! 2005!

I've been away for a while, visiting places that didn'thave computers.In case you're wondering. N-E-ways:

**Anonymous-cat**:Who says I'm comparing Peter to Jesus? Lemme check to make sure..."Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all inquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works. Titus 2:14" hmm...okay...I know what you're thinkin'. Try and think outside the box for a while. Jesus (Not Peter) gave himself for us. That includes Otto. Jesus died for our sins. Including Otto. I know I didn't explain it, but oh well. Alot of explainations are in author notes. Anyone noticed that?

**Rainbow Dancer:** Hmm...you're familiar...are you Mary Jane Watson-Parker?

**Bakudon:** Man...I hate it when people get it right before it happens! Is this story so predictable?

**hazelle: **It does sound like a good ending does it? But I got a much better ending though! (wink wink)

Ta ta for now!


	7. Exodus 20:15 & Psalm 23:4

Spiderman is dead: the story afterwards pt. VII

_I feel irrational, so confrontational  
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder  
It is impossible to never tell the truth  
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder_

_Getting away, getting away, getting away...

* * *

_

_Harry Osborn threw his glass of champagne to the wall. He, too, became broken. He lost his mother first, then his father at the hands of his best friend, who also died. And Peter have been so much of a brother to him...the last years of the rest of Peter's life, Harry pushed him away. Now his best friend's dead...he didn't even say that he forgives Peter for killing his father..._

_Peter was killed, by that monster, that...that maniac, that madman, that crazy scientist, that hack...and Harry will not let that particular Octopus get away with it. No sir._

_He's been thinking a lot, on how he can get back at the monster, to restore justice for his best friend and revenge for himself. Otto Gunther Octavius must pay. He ruined his life, took his money, and took his best friend away...the man will die._

_Then, Harry looked over to the closet he have recently found, that was broken when he threw a knife at it. The Green Goblin's lair. His father have once become the monster, the same madman that tried to kill MJ...and even him. He walked up through the closet, and picked up the green goblin mask. He felt the smooth texture of the green plastic, the thing his father once wore._

_"Octavius stole my best friend," Osborn spoke harshly, "I will not let him get away with that."_

_

* * *

_

We decided to rob the drugstore in the Garment district. I wanted to stay in the Bronx, but the actuators protested.

Look, there are people over there already robbing the store! Go to a safe environment where no one expects a robbery.

I didn't feel like arguing. Besides, I feel up to a walk anyway. I haven't been outside in weeks. The actuators were underneath my black trenchcoat.

The day, as of every other day for the past weeks, wasn't pretty. It was still raining. Hard. Is the sky crying? Is it crying for Peter? Is it crying for me? I wasn't sure.

I had to walk through the cold rain. The tentacles kept nagging at me that I would catch a cold. I ignored them. I like this rain. I like walking through it. I loved it when the sky was gray. Every time I saw the sun come out, I hated it. It brings back painful memories. I created my own sun once. It gave me pain and misery in the end. It became the end of the world for me.

When I reached the drug store, I paused in front of the door. I hesitate to open the door.

**Father?**

**What's wrong?**

_Nothing...it is just that...I'm not really sure...if I should do this..._

The rain dripped over my head one by one, the cold, wet touch cold to my skull. They fall down, one by one, like a pianist's fingers, fingering the piano.

**We have gone this over and over, Father!**

**Relax, you have a trenchcoat! Just stuff the food inside the coat and walk out, no questions asked.**

**Is it hard? They wouldn't notice.**

I nodded and gulped, then stepped into the store. No one saw me. I looked at no one. I walked fast, toward the food section. I didn't stop for anything—I felt like I was dying of starvation. I saw everything—candy, chips, sodas, donuts, etc. There wasn't anything that was usually found in grocery stores, but I didn't hesitate.

I looked around, for any signs of witnesses, any signs of a camera. None. Nada. What big idiots. Juvenile delinquents of today could easily snatch a bag or two from here. I didn't hesitate to stuff the loot underneath the big pockets I had. Snickers, pop-tarts, M&M's, Cheetos, Doritos. Baby Ruth, Reese's, Sprites, Dr. Pepper, Coke...they may be junk food, as that I need the nutrients, but what the hell, I could eat a horse by now. Maybe I'll rob a grocery store by Queens later on.

The problem is, I need to keep up an alibi. I just can't come in a store, look around the foods/snack section, then just run out in a hurry. No way. Too risky. I'll be suspicious.

A girl teenager was walking down the food isle. She spotted something by the candy's section. She took out her purse and took out a dollar, and grabbed a pack of gum. She dropped something...

There was a dollar on the floor. The Juicy fruit gum's only 50 cents. I grabbed the gum. I zoomed faster than the girl, and up to the counter, ready to buy the pack of gum.

The clerk made a fixed look. "Hn. You beggars are all the same. You'd search the floor for money like little rats, and be desperate to buy something to eat, even takin' petty money from a little girl." He scanned the gum and I gave him the money. I looked at him, confused. How does he know?

The clerk laughed. "He heh, jus' kiddin'! Nice coat though, they're expensive stuff I'll bet!" He gave me the drug store bag. "Have a nice day!" I left the store.

That was a close one. Even though it coincide, the guy would have no idea that I'm really am a beggar.

"Otto...?" I heard her voice. Rosie? No, it was Mary Jane. She is right behind me.

I turned around to face her in the rain. She wore black tight pants and a black Old Navy jogging jacket. Mary Jane wasn't wet from the rain, since she has an umbrella. She made an unsure look, as if trying to recognize me. As if I am different.

I admit, I have lost an awful amount of weight for the past weeks, due to the lack of food...not to mention, my skin is really pale. As white as snow. I've been in the dark for so long. But she recognized me alright, by looking straight at me. I didn't speak.

"What...what are you doing here?"

I didn't want to answer. Instead I say, "How did you know it was me?"

"Your eyes...they're brown. So familiar. I knew it was you."

I nodded and whispered oh. She motioned for me to walk with her, and I nervously did so. Even though she forgives me, I feel uncomfortable about this, since she was Peter Parker's girlfriend. We continued to walk, the sounds of rain the sounds of cars filling the air. She shared the umbrella with me, and I reluctantly let her. We were silent.

"You looked...different." Mary Jane spoke, "You look...like crap."

"I do, do I?" I replied. She nodded.

"You're not...hurting yourself, are you?" she asked in concern.

"I'm...I'm fine. I'll be...okay." I stopped, wanting to go in the opposite way of where she was heading.

"You're sure?" She asked, "you want a bite to eat or something?"

I'd love to Mary Jane, but I have interfered with your life enough. I have killed the one you love, and as forgiving as you are, I believe it isn't right for you to help me. I don't deserve it. Thanks...but no thanks.

"Good bye, Mary Jane." I turned around and walked through the rain, never looking back.

I walked through the rain, leaving the cherry-red haired girl alone, passing through the crowd of pedestrians that pass me. The rain fell, making everything dark, everything gray.

**...Father?**

_What is it?_ I thought to the actuators, taking out a stick of gum I brought. I stuffed it in my mouth. Damn, I'm so hungry. The flavor will hold me.

**That girl...**

**Mary Jane...she is going to die**.

I paused right there. What? What did they say?

**Turn around! In that alleyway!**

I turned around. I saw her disappear in the dark alleyway, and a group of thugs have spotted her and followed her in. My heart leaped. There goes a feeling that something is going to go wrong. Like some kind of sense. I felt it directly, this familiar feeling, at the demonstration, before I first turned on the fusion reactor. Something is going to go wrong.

A voice in my head spoke to me. The same voice I heard at Peter's funeral. **_"With great power, comes great responsibility."_**

My heart leaped. That voice has a right say, I must step up. I have some kind of responsibility. Mary Jane could be saved. I might have a chance...I have to react quickly.

I spat out the gum I was chewing and walked backwards slowly, into the darkness of the alleyway that was behind me. I allowed the actuators to come out, and I climbed up the building, not caring if anyone saw me.

And I didn't go slowly; I went a full speed ahead. I used the arms to go faster than my legs could carry, and I jumped over 2-3 buildings. Thunder boomed the sky.

Then I saw her being pushed around, back and forth, by those thugs. She screamed 'help!', and I dared not to wait another second of watching. I jumped in and saved her.

I jumped on top one of them that was far from the group, and when they reacted, I aimed a punch with each of my flesh-and-blood arms in my left and right.

The two that was in front of me that took advantage over Mary Jane each took out switchblades, but the top two actuators didn't give them a moment of threat. They lifted both of them up, and threw them across the alleyway, but they didn't kill them. I couldn't really more deaths in the karma of my soul.

Then, the two that he punched each took out a gun and began to shoot. One of them shot me in the left arm. I jumped backwards in the apartment ladders from the left side to the right, trying to dodge the bullets.

When I reached to the top of the building, I raised my arms, all six of them. The thugs looked at me, the rain falling to their ugly faces, and they each held looks of fear, after hearing sounds of thunder and seeing the flash of lighting that happens to flash behind me.

I took this as an advantage, and dove in, and attacked the thugs head on. I punched and attacked them with my arms one by one, until they were all drop-dead unconscious.

I turned to Mary Jane. She had a strange look, not a look of shock or surprise, but one filled with emotion. One, that was confused and in relief, and was proud and amazed, but frightened. Is this is how Peter feels, when he saved a life? What would happen if I didn't save Mary Jane? I would blame it on myself. Would Peter blame himself too?

**_"With great power comes great responsibility."_**

Then that was when I really first became sick. My head was throbbing, burning painfully, and I feel so nauseous, I'd throw up any minute. I tried hard not to hurl.

And Mary Jane, she approached to me. The rain was still falling. She was aware of my condition, and I feel so...so drowsy. I placed my hand on my forehead, backing away from her. No...I don't need her help...I don't need anyone's! Oh God it hurts...

"Otto?" She said softly, rushing to my side. "Are you okay?"

**Father?** The arms were beginning to worry.

**Are you okay?**

I moaned painfully. I have never felt so sick in my entire life.

**Oh my god! I think he's going to die!**

**We have to help him! He needs a doctor!**

The arms tried to 'look' at Mary Jane, 'telling' her I need help. She understood as if she could read their minds, and held onto me before I bent down.

"Otto? Oh God, Otto! Hold on, I'll get you some help, okay?" my head...I'm losing touch...I'm losing it...

Before I could even know it, I pushed the girl aside and I turned around, facing the alleyway wall and between the trash cans, and there I vomited there. All that food that'll ever hold me, gone right there. God, I hated vomiting. Especially in front of someone.

Next thing, I was breathing hard, and I fell backwards, lying on my back. The last things I saw, were all four of the arms, Mary Jane's frightened look, and more rain falling from a much grayer sky. I closed my eyes, drifting into a sleep I have never had in a long time.

**Father! FATHER!!!**

**Help, Mary Jane! Please!**

**He's going to die! He's going to die! We're going to die!**

**We got to send him to the hospital!**

There I was...unconscious.

* * *

Yay! An update! Um...nothing much to say to you guys except, I decided to add two bible verses for this chapter, because I couldn't really choose which is better...

Review! And, expect another chapter soon!


	8. Psalm 18:4 & 5

Spiderman is dead: the story afterwards VIII

_I feel_ _irrational, so confrontational_

_To tell the truth I am getting away with murder_

_It is impossible to never tell the truth_

_But the reality is I'm getting away with murder

* * *

_

"Dr. Octavius?"

Everything was so dark...so cold. But I feel nothing. I opened my eyes. Everything was so black, so dark...I couldn't see a thing. It felt empty, but a part of me tells me it is full.

"Hey...Otto..." a familiar voice spoke through the everlasting realm, in a sing-song tone. "Over here! Behind ya!"

I turned around. And there he was.

A boy, no, an adult was there, standing there behind me. His stood tall and strong...broad-shouldered. His body...he wore a red and blue spandex, complete with black webs as decoration surrounding it. He didn't wear the mask. He had those bright blue eyes, the unruly brown hair...and a heart-warming smile. He was smiling. At me. And he seem happy too...this boy...the brilliant but lazy...Peter Parker...Spider-man...the one I killed...

I knew it was him. He can see me, talk to me, and he is happy, even though the situation was dark. Peter was right there. Is he an illusion? A dream? A ghost? Whatever he is, I'm grasping the moment before hand—I must have is forgiveness.

"P-peter..." I choke out, trying to reach to him. My emotions were already taking the best of me; I'm already on the verge of tears.

"Hey, why so blue?" Peter...that same goofy child.

"Peter...do you..."

"You saved MJ. I'm very happy you did." MJ? Oh...he must mean Mary Jane... "Thank you Otto. I...I owe you."

Peter...do you forgive me? I killed you...I hurt everybody...I didn't mean to...it just happened. I was confused.

"You were given your powers for a reason," Peter said to me, "are you just going to sit back and do nothing? Just sit there and feel sorry for yourself?"

He walked up to me, and placed his left hand on my right shoulder. I couldn't speak.

"Take my Job," Peter said, "you did kill me. Don't you know these people need help? You got to act responsibly. You got to bring justice to this world, make it a better place. You always wanted to help mankind, so do it. You don't have to use your brains to figure that one out."

Take...take your job? Should I be responsible with these arms, and take over your role of saving the city? Am I even worthy of the position? What if I fail? What if someone dies and I failed to protect them? Then what? I wouldn't be worthy of being in your position? What happens if I die? No one will take the place after that...right...?

"Peter..." I whisper. Tears fall freely down my eyes, but I couldn't feel it. I feel numb.

"Yes, Dr. Octavius?" Peter asked, with an innocent grin. He looked so happy.

"Do you...forgive me...?"

"Of course I do, old friend. Hey, don't cry, okay? Don't beat yourself up. You still got something left in your life, you got a city to protect. People need your help. So, go out there."

And then, once more, everything went black.

* * *

_The rain had stopped. It was night time, and the sky was still gray. The busy streets of Manhattan were filled with the polluted nosy cars and people, and at one time you wouldn't notice anything weird up in the sky._

_There was something weird in the sky. No one notices, or at least there wasn't any panic. If was too dark in the sky to see, but you could see some kind of movement through the sky, flying, but it wasn't an airplane or a bird._

_The moon found its way from the gray clouds. A figure flew through the moon, you and could see that figure._

_It was humanoid, in green, on a purple hovercraft or some kind of glider. It is the Green Goblin._

_He has returned. And he is back for one mission only: to search and destroy Otto Octavius.

* * *

_

"...and Harry was like, 'waitress, can I have a quickie?' and the waitress slapped him and left, and I told him, 'Harry, it is pronounced 'quiche'!'"

I awoke. I didn't open my eyes, but I was aware. I hear the actuators speaking in my mind...and a familiar female voice just talking. Out to thin air...

**He he, number 2, write to Mary Jane this—**

**I want to talk to Mary Jane!**

**Quiet! You'll wake up father...**

And the arms...they seem to respond to her...

When I first opened my eyes, my vision was blurry, and a painful headache took over my mind. I stirred, and found that there was a wet face-towel over my forehead.

_W-where...am I...?_ I thought. All four actuators turned go 'look' at me. My vision turned back to normal, and I could see Mary Jane in front of me, watching in concern.

"Otto?" she spoke.

"...hi."

God, I feel miserable. I appear to be shirtless, the base of the machine fused to my body visible. I weakly pull the blanket up some over my chest. My body feels so numb, I can't even move...sometimes I wish that I were in someone else's shoes...

"Had...a good night's sleep?" MJ said with a weak smile. She was sitting beside me, on a chair, and she removed the face towel from my head. I just looked at her...and I could see the redness of her hair...the greenness of her eyes...and the paleness of her skin. She wore black, like a widow. She is kind of like one, as to the fact that she have lost Peter...and I guess I'm a widower myself.

"I...I've had worst nights..." My voice cracked. Mary Jane nodded and unfolded then refolded the face towel to place on my forehead again. I wanted to get up, but I feel so weak and tired...

"You ran down a fever, or at least that was what I thought..." MJ said, standing up.

"I'm sorry...for my behavior..." I said softly.

"Don't be. You should apologize to yourself. And...I saw those...cuts...you cut yourself didn't you?" I sighed deeply and closed my eyes. I do not want to talk about that.

"Just...just don't do that again, okay?" she ran her fingers over my hair. "At least for me...alright? I hate to see anyone suffer...even you."

I know you forgive me Mary Jane...but how could you? How could you help me? I have brought you nothing but pain...I have killed your love...what did I do to gain your trust?

"You should lay down...I'm going to bring you some food in just a minute. You must be starving."

And I lay in bed, glad to see that even above all the sins I've committed, there is still someone out there that cares about me...

* * *

_"Hmm..." The Green Goblin mused to himself, "if I was a human Octopus, where would I be?"_

_He sighed wearing his mask, while sitting on his glider indian-style, hovering in circles above a building. He tries to think and think, of where Otto Octavius would be..._

_"Why are you even trying to bother to kill him son?" a voice from below spoke. Harry looked down to the building below and stopped the glider from circling. It was a middle-aged man, who stood tall and broad-shouldered, with unruly hair, all in black. It was his father. Norman Osborn._

_"Remember, my death was avenged! He is dead! You should at least thank him for what he have done!" His father was nothing but a ghoul—a real goblin._

_Harry looked away, and flinched. Even though he loves his father and misses him, sometimes he despises his father, for the few things he say to him. Peter was his best friend, a brother. He had been loyal, right before his father's death, and he only kept it a secret to protect Harry from himself._

_"Peter is my best friend, for your information," Harry spat from behind the mask, "and even if he was still alive, I still wouldn't avenge you! You have done bad things, horrible things, something Octavius did...and I will not follow in your footsteps to become the likes of you!"_

_"Harry..." it crushed Norman, you could tell by the tone of his voice. Harry removed his mask to look at his father with his real eyes. Norman looked up to his son...and he could see the tormented look of pain in his son's face..._

_What have I done...Norman thought, still looking up at his son. I have put my pride and work ahead of my son...and didn't think about what he would've felt..._

_And Harry just stood up on the glider and placed the mask back on. "Good-bye...father." he said, and took off, not looking behind, to see the ghost form of his father dissolve into thin air._

_And Harry remembered something; from the funeral, a man helped him bring Peter's coffin to his rightful place. Wasn't he a bit familiar? His voice was a bit dark... not to mention, he wore a black trenchcoat! Octavius wasn't at the funeral, was he?_

_Harry suddenly remembered...Mary Jane was talking to him before they set Peter down. If the man was truly Doctor Octopus, then she is in trouble._

_"Hold on MJ!" he yelled through the gray sky, and took off in full speed. He couldn't afford to lose another friend.

* * *

_

According to MJ, I have been sleeping for 3-4 days, and that is a really long time. At least I feel a little refreshed, not as tired as the way I feel like passing out any minute. Now I was starving.

Luckily, MJ gave me tons of food, ("Thank you!" I said to her..."You're welcome!") but even though it was a lot, it still wasn't enough. I didn't stop to say grace—I was buried down on food the moment Mary Jane set it down for me to eat in bed. Oh food...good food...wonderful food...I have missed it so...

The actuators watched me in great amusement (at least I thought), and one of them reached over to a notebook and grabbed a pen to write in. I didn't pay attention to read. I was drowning in food.

When they were finished writing, MJ picked up the notebook and read it. She laughed. "Yeah, I'm surprised too!"

"What?" wiping my mouth with a napkin. I took a sip of the orange juice she gave me.

**Even though you're sick, you've managed to eat like a horse!**

**You recovered really quick!**

"You're getting to be better!" Mary Jane replied. I blushed. Gods, I didn't show my manners...

"You know..." Mary Jane said, sitting down, "the arms are actually better than they seem. They just don't know good things and...bad."

The top left slithered up to me, and I petted him. "R-really?" I asked, "You think so?"

"Sure," Mary Jane smiled, "I mean, I've been having a lot of conversations between them for the last few days...I'm glad you taught them how to write. It was fun, for a while. I didn't know they can think..."

"They have artificial intelligence...AI..." I explained. "I...if only that the inhibitor chip...the device keeping me from being vulnerable to them...wasn't destroyed..."

We were silent for a while. Even the arms.

"Well, look on the bright side!" MJ chirped, "at least they helped me bring you up here, in my apartment!"

Then, I felt that feeling again. Something wrong is going to happen. Again. I heard WHIR sounds from outside the window, it exploded, and I jumped up, knocking MJ to the ground with no second thought. Dirt and debris flew across the room.

"Hit the deck!" I yelled. Mary Jane screamed high-pitched, and I stood up immediately, just suddenly recovering all of my strength.

"Are you, cough, okay?" I spoke, looking back down to MJ. She was still lying down on the floor. Her arm was limp.

"M-my arm..." MJ cried. Oh god. She broke her left arm. Who ever did this is going to pay.

Someone's evil cackle was heard from outside, fire all over what remains of MJ's window. I didn't get up to look at it. I stood up, with MJ in my arms, and I ran, with the top right actuator grabbing my trenchcoat from a chair and the top left grabbing my hat.

I ran outside the apartment, and down the hallway of the complex, and a green figure on top of a purple glider was chasing me across that hallway. Who the hell is he?! I remember reading in the news that Peter fought him once before...or did he team up with him? The Daily Bugle confuses me.

It chased me, and I had no other exit but an elevator, which is too slow.

**Father! Let us fight him for you!**

_No! I can't let Mary Jane get hurt! It is my responsibility to keep her safe; no matter the circumstance!_

There was a tall glass window in front of me...that method of escape would work.

_The window!_

**No need to tell twice!**

I jumped out the window, the actuators putting on my fedora and trenchcoat over my shoulders, before landing on a brick building. The Green Goblin hovered overhead.

"You will not get away with her!" he yelled.

I sent out the bottom left and right to attack, while the top right and left sends me down. Goblin didn't stop there, he continued to punch and kick the arms.

MJ watched in fear, and held onto me tightly, not looking down, but looking up at the blows the arms and Goblin threw. God, and I was supposed to be in bed!

_Almost to the bottom..._

I looked down. People were watching, and ran in panic. Riots and chaos. I saw a huge trashcan down there...

_The trash—_

**Yes! Yes!**

The right actuators reached down and lifted the trash up; it pushed the maniac in the glider upward. But it won't hold him for long.

I traveled, while holding MJ, over with all four actuators moving for me like spider legs. It wasn't long, before Goblin leveled down to me and I looked at him, not sure what to do.

"Leave her alone!" the goblin aimed a punch to my cheekbone; and I flew across the street into a building.

_Protect MJ!_

**But-**

_No buts! Just do it!!_

I covered her with all over my arms, both blood and metal, and it wasn't a soft landing. I was covered in debris, and blood...scratches all over my body...but I protected MJ.

Harry gasped. He didn't meant to do that. The power of the chemical he drank in liquid form was really getting to his head.

I weakly removed the bricks and debris with my bare hands...and checked to see if MJ gotten hurt.

"Are you okay?" I said with concern. She nodded.

Sounds of screaming and sirens rang the sky, and a small group of scared people that was inside the building looked at me in fear. I looked over to them, and I knew that I could not send MJ to the hospital with the Green Goblin trailing me. I took my pleading looks.

"Please," I begged to them, holding up Mary Jane, "take her to the hospital...she's hurt."

A white businessman gulped, and bravely walked up slowly. The actuators got out from the debris, and the man fearfully took a step back...

"W-wait!" I reached a hand out, "don't be afraid! I won't hurt anybody! I promise! Just help her...please..." The man looked at me in the eyes, and his scared look turned into a serious glare, and he nodded. He knew I was telling the truth.

"Otto…" Mary Jane whispered.

"I'll be alright..." I said to her. The man walked up to me and I gave her MJ...

...then the Goblin flew in with his glider for a tackle. "Look out!" I screamed, pushing Mary Jane and the businessman aside.

I was pinned to the wall by his glider. Luckily, the machine protected my stomach...but it still hurts like hell!

"Look at you," the Goblin grunted, "you really are an eight-legged freak. Just like the other bug. They shouldn't have called you an Octopus!"

He tried to choke me. My flesh and blood body was too weak and tired to fight back. But the arms tried to put up a fight.

**Don't you dare hurt father like that...you freak!**

**You will pay for this!**

**DIE!!!!!**

The actuators kept hitting Goblin. He covered himself to keep from getting hit. "Damn it!" the Goblin cursed, and he flew out the building. I went down on my knees and coughed. I don't...feel so good...

MJ and the others were still there, so I yelled for them to leave. I stood up, despite the fact that I feel nauseous again. I know, I'm really sure, that I might die in this fight. If that is the case, then he'll die too, because I cannot go, leaving him be to hurt these people.

I walked up to the entrance limply, breathing hard, my left hand over my chest. The Goblin hovered about 25 feet above me, and I could see that he took out some kind of bomb. I looked up at him...and I felt like dying...I felt, as if the whole world was spinning in my sights. I tried to concentrate. I'm still sick.

"What ever happens..." I breathed in pain, "If I die in this fight, I'm taking you with me!!"

* * *

Well, the last chapter is the n-e-x-t! And trust me, you're in for a thrill! I had fun working on this story!


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue: Rebirth

* * *

_The Green Goblin smirked. Octavius was a fool! Harry Osborn is going nowhere—it's the great Doctor Octopus that's going down. Octavius is not going to get away with it; Harry is going to avenge his best friend's death._

_"He he," Goblin laughed, "you know it Octavius! The Good guys always win!"_

I scowled. Who is he to say that, when he tried to kill Mary Jane and a group of kids once?

"Look who's talking! I'm not the only one who fought Spiderman and got away with it!"

**Father!**

_Go my children. Go up there. I feel like punching someone today._

I had my two top actuators shoot out and I climbed at full speed up to the bastard, attacking him head-on with my flesh-and-blood arm's punch.

That caught Goblin in surprise. I missed him by just an inch...and everything seems like it was going in slow motion. The Green Goblin grunted, and I used my other arm to punch him in the stomach.

"Damn it!" Goblin cursed. He was knocked back, but he stayed in the glider.

"Ha!" I smirked. But the Goblin wouldn't go down that easily by just a punch. I was falling, so I had my bottom two actuators grab onto the glider. The Green Goblin tried to shake me off, but I held onto him, like a real spider.

Then he flew the glider towards a wall, and I let go immediately.

"Awwshitshitshitshit!" Not a pretty feeling, falling over 30 ft. below...

_Do SOMETHING!_ I thought loudly.

**This...will hurt!**

The top right actuator reached out to a building's window, swinging me into the glass window. I crashed landed onto the ground, glass shards everywhere, my blood everywhere. God, it hurts! I'm surprised I could go on...I'm still an average human being physically, just attached to metal by the spine. Damn...I'm going to feel this in the morning...

I weakly got up. My head was bleeding, and I quickly tried to brush it and a few tiny pieces of glass from my face. Damn it...my vision slowly making me dizzy...I'm supposed to be in bed...

I shook my head. Can't afford any weaknesses now. If I was to die, I have to bring him with me.

The Green Goblin lowered his glider, and I could see him hover from out the window.

"Look what we have here," he said gruffly, "you have a knack for breaking windows Ock! First this one, and the other that killed your whore." He cackled.

Those words...those goddamn words...they sting like a thousand arrows. How...how dare that asshole...

**Let us get him for you!**

**He offended your Rosie!**

...say that about MY WIFE!

"Rraaaggghh!!" I made a mad dash and screamed—jumping out the window and onto the Green Goblin, punching him continuously.

_What are you doing?!_ I yelled to my arms. _Give him your fuckin' best!_

The arms needn't to be told twice. They began hitting him, slapping him, stinging him like bees. And the Goblin didn't bring out his defense this time, he kept punching me back, choking me.

We were flying across the city on the glider, exchanging blow from blow, the whole city watching us fight. Is this a perfect chance to redeem myself? This man...this monster... have terrorized this city before. Would I receive a chance to be redeemed, at this moment?

The city must be confused. I have killed their hero, the vigilante that dedicated himself to save the city. They all mourn for him and they all glared daggers (more than fear me) now. Could this be a chance, to play my part as a hero, to save this city from whatever the green goblin plans to do with it, to take over Peter's role?

These thoughts, this fight...are making me realize something. I'm beginning to enjoy this feeling. Maybe it is better to be a hero. Maybe it is better...to protect someone rather than be protected. It makes me feel stronger, makes me feel...worthwhile.

Now, it makes me realize, that...I don't want to go to hell. And I really meant it. I just can't go off and say 'Oh look I did a bad thing. Guess there's no way I'll be in heaven'. I got to work hard. I must do more good, than bad. I got to stay strong, to pray, to help these people.

I feel, right now, as if I'm fighting a demon. The Green Goblin—it perfectly fits.

I soon aimed a punch to his head—but he caught it in time. He pulled my arm down and punched me into the cheekbone, and that threw me off the glider-- I landed hard on top of a building, crashing into a pile the bricks. There were construction men on top of the building, and they fled.

"My head..." I moaned, rubbing my left temple.

**Father!**

**Are you alright?**

_I'm fine..._

I got to get up. I got to keep fighting. Peter depends on me, Mary Jane depends on me, the people and city depends on me...no matter what evil I have done to them in the past. I have got to stop this man once and for all...and it makes a wonder why Peter never defeated him.

_Osborn watched Octavius down in disgust. Pathetic. This is the man who killed his best friend? This same man? Either he has grown weak, or have lost his rage after killing Peter._

_He lowered the glider down on top of the building, and got off. He walked slowly, calmly, with no feeling or emotion._

"Interesting," he spoke coldly. "I have heard that you have let out such hellish rage or power, but I have never seen you used it in our fight."

I tried to get up. I breathed hard, and spat out blood. A mixture of blood, glass, and debris stained my coat and my skin, but I still moved on, no matter how nauseous I've become, no matter how sick I can be.

"I will protect these people," I spoke, breathing harshly, "I will keep my promise...that I will protect this city with my life...that I will take his place, and remember that with great power comes great responsibility...and that it will be the benefit for mankind!"

I walked to him, my legs limping, grasping my chests. My chest hurts so much...are my ribs broken?

_Osborn scowled at Otto. Look at him, he thought. So pathetic! So weak! So fragile, and he hits like a girl! Where is the man that killed Peter?! Where is that bastard that killed my best friend?!_

My arms were ready to attack.

**We'll defend you!**

**We'll kill him!**

"No," I whispered, "no more killing. No more. I'm not Doctor Octopus. He is dead. Peter killed him. Peter rescued Otto...like the way he rescues the citizens. I'm saved. You hear me? He saved me! He sacrificed his life to save me! And I will not let his death be in vain..."

I let go of my chest, and got into karate fighting position. The Green Goblin laughed.

"You're still up? You can't even fight correctly. Go ahead, depend on those tentacles to help you."

I didn't speak. I ran up to him, and shot out my right actuators to attack—Goblin kept dodging and blocking.

**He's fast!**

**Faster than Spider-man!**

Then I had my left actuators attack next. He still blocks and dodges. I try and hit him with my flesh-and-blood. He still makes it.

Then I felt a strong tingle of pain in my ribs, and all of my arms, even the mechanical ones, stopped attacking. The Green Goblin let down his right knee, which I found out that he hit me in the guts with, and took a step back. He cackled.

I grunted in pain. He hit me...where it hurts! I bent down in my knees crutching my ribs, struggling. Ouch...no I'm really going to feel that in the morning!

**Father! Father!**

**Keep your body away from him! We can attack from afar!**

**Can you get up?!**

**Does it still hurt?**

I slowly looked up to Goblin...anger masking my face. Why now? Why did he come back?

"Pity. Pit-y!" The green goblin walked up closer to me. "You know," he said gruffly, bending down on one knee, "I could squash you like a bug right now."

I felt a powerful grip as he squeezed my jaw. "But no," Goblin said softly, "I want to see you suffer. I want to give you the most painful death imaginable. Then, when you die, I'll build you your grave myself, and I'll spit down to it, then I'll burn your grave, reminding me that you'll be rotting in hell!"

**How dare he!**

**He is soooo dead!**

**Just wait until he feels this!**

I gritted my teeth, growling in anger. "Let go of my jaw," I said harshly, "before I'll tear your hands apart!"

_Go my children! Rip him apart. Keep him from me!_

**Will do!**

_Don't kill him thoug—_

ZAP!

Before I could finish, my four actuators attacked, but then they just dropped down. The Goblin, while holding my jaw up, had raised a bluish-purple ball up, and blue-electric energy escaped at a push of a button. The reaction, the actuators stopped moving and echoes of them screaming filled my head. It was a blinding headache, and it wasn't just an ear-splitting chorus of screams, it was making me sick again. I grunted and moaned in pain.

"Electromagnetic pulses," The Green Goblin spoke, "EMP. I love that stuff, don'cha? Didn't think I came prepared, did you?"

I looked at him in fear. How am I to fight him without the arms? I really am going to die...

**I'm so sorry father!**

**We failed you! We failed everyone!**

**Why can't we move?**

**Why can't we feel?! What is going on?!**

The Green Goblin scoffed and threw my head into the ground, where my skull crashed painfully into. I didn't want to get up. I never want to get up and fight again... My head's throbbing, I'm still bleeding freely, ear-breaking screams inside my mind--- I can't take it!

"I'm sorry Peter..." I wanted to cry. But I couldn't. Not in front of this bastard. "I...I failed the city...I wasn't given a chance..."

"Don't give up Otto!" a voice in the back of my head spoke, "You can still win. You can still do it. Do it for MJ. For the city. For me. For Rosie..."

I closed my eyes...and thought hard about Rosie. I remember her rose oil perfume scent...the soft touch of her tan skin...the way her brown, beautiful free hair flying through a windy afternoon...I miss her so much. I want to be with her again. But not yet. I got a city to save. She wouldn't want me go give up. She wouldn't want me to suffer either...and she would want me to be strong.

"Pathetic. I can't believe that a weakling like you could kill the legendary Spiderman. Must be pure dumb luck, I guess..."

I was drifting to sleep...no! I can't be unconscious yet! I can't rest yet! He is still here!

"Though, I have always hated Spiderman before. But now, now I don't. Not anymore. You should've let me kill him, but no! You went off from your little swimming pool and choked the guy to death. Well, I don't blame you...you're a hack after all."

I tried to gain my senses. I couldn't get up. But my eyes...they were so dizzy, so blurry, and I couldn't keep it up...

I closed my eyes for a while, shuddering in pain. Goblin was still talking. I could still hear him...

"Look at you. Lying there like a beaten dog. I hate you for it. You didn't even put up much of a fight. I whupped you with no sweat. You're going too easy on me."

I tried to ignore his ranting. My body couldn't take this anymore...so I decided to rest for a while. Not sleep, but rest. And all this time, gray clouds filled the air, and soon, a shower that turns into a storm of rain came out.

But just then...I could smell her rose oil perfume just right now. Rosie? Is she near? Memories and robot screaming filled my head, confusing me. But even the brain was known to come to an abrupt halt. I tried to concentrate, to keep out the world from my senses, mentally erasing myself.

In pure blackness, I could see her. I could see Rosie. I couldn't feel her, but I could see her. She was smiling sadly, looking at me, tears running down freely. I mentally gulped and cried. I wanted to run up to her, to tell her I'm sorry, to tell her I'll do whatever I can to make up for it...but her spirit lingers there, and I can't do anything. It is all in the state of my mind.

"Otto..." she said softly. Her voice was so beautiful... "Baby..."

"Rosie..." I whispered. She nodded, and by that time, I knew why she was nodding. My senses went back to reality, to the pain, to my real thoughts, to Goblin's talking.

_A spirit of Peter watched sadly from overhead. Two men, protecting MJ, doing purposely good, both fighting each other. Things aren't the way it used to be. Sometimes he wished he never received his powers. They didn't have to suffer like this...but at times, he was glad he received his powers._

_I wish I was still alive...Peter thought. I have to stop them. I have to save them. They're my friends, fighting each other to the death...I can't go off not being part of it! I have to stop them, to save them! I have to tell Harry...and help Otto! He needs my help!_

_Then, he felt his spirit move back fast, in full speed..._

"Get up Octavius," Goblin said coldly, as I regained consciousness. He tried to lift me up by the neck of the trench coat. I could feel that he was smiling from underneath.

"Look who's the jellyfish now, eh? Seems so, since you were named after a sea-animal." That caught my attention. Did I hear correctly? Jellyfish? Isn't that what I call Harry Osborn...? Oh god, it can't be, can it?

"Look into the eyes," Goblin said harshly, taking off his mask, "look into the eyes of the last person you'll ever see, the person you stole money and friend from, the eyes of a man who is the son of the true and original Green Goblin!"

And there, I saw Harry Osborn's face, the every detail of it, the every ugliness of it. I can't believe it. I'm losing to Osborn. He is killing me...he was the son of the original green goblin? That must mean Norman Osborn...oh god...it all makes perfect sense...

"H-harry..." I said, in shock. A crash of thunder was heard. Rain fell over us, pouring from the sky. How long did the rain stay? For weeks now?

He nodded. "Yeah, and remember it."

"Don't do this Harry!" I yelled, "Peter wouldn't want you to kill!"

"Maybe, maybe not." He replied, "But I want to. And I don't give a damn. My life isn't complete until I got revenge on someone."

"No...you're wrong..."

Harry, vengeance doesn't solve anything. It'll never will. The pain will continue to fester and grow. You'll fall into guilt, and realize that it was wrong. Don't do it Harry. Don't do it. I once got my revenge, and I have felt the most painful reaction. I don't want you to feel that. It was much too painful for any human to bear. Don't do it Harry. Don't do it.

But then, I just felt some kind of feeling, that everything will be alright. I don't know why, as that the situation is tight...but I'm going to be saved...

_Back at the cemetery, a tall, black haired muscular man with a mustache stood over Peter Parker's grave, and he have dugged out everything, all the way to the coffin._

_It was raining, and pouring hard. But it didn't stop the man from digging._

_"He should return any moment now," the man spoke. Then, like the way a Zombie would do, a hand reached out, and it was still of life, not decaying. It made the man jump back, but then he jumped down into the burial hole, to open the coffin. He also brought down a brown paper bag with him. He opened the coffin._

_And out came, once again, the awaken figure of Peter Parker, who is now known as Spiderman._

_And he was confused._

_"What is this?" He asked, his voice cracking. He felt as if awaken from a dream._

_He looked at his hands, he felt so cold. He remembered the life-threatening pain, the spirit traveling, talking to Otto in his dream. How is this possible? How is he alive?_

_"You should be blessed, Peter Parker," the man said. "I tranquilized you, or drugged you before he could squeeze you any tighter. I wanted to make it seem as if you were really dead."_

_"But...I was a ghost?!"_

_"Men have said before that their spirits have left their bodies. But that isn't important now. You have two friends to save." The man said, giving Peter the brown paper bag._

_By then, the rain has stopped._

_Peter took the bag, and opened it, to find that his Spiderman suit was in there._

_"Um...I don't know what to say...thank you Mister..."_

_"Kravinoff. Sergio Kravinoff. Or perhaps, you should prefer me as Kraven the hunter."_

_Peter nodded. "Thank you Kraven. I owe you."_

_"Go kid, before someone dies tonight!"_

_Peter took off his suit's jacket, tossed it to Kraven, and put on his Spiderman mask. He shot out a webline, and zoomed out, into the city, into the chaos. As it happened, the gray clouds cleared off, bringing out the long forgotten sun, as Peter swings through the city, taking off his clothes and putting on his Spiderman costume while doing so._

_Peter made a smile. There's always happy endings right? But then again, everything will be alright._ _No one have to get hurt._

**The End.

* * *

**

Peter is alive! A-L-I-V-E! (laughs evilly like Frankenstein) You guys fill in the rest of the holes. 'Nuff said!

And once in the comics, Peter did 'die', with Kraven who did 'killed' Peter (who in the end drugged him with a tranquilizer) and I thought that it'll be cool, because there wouldn't be a Spiderman story with out Spiderman, right? Just think. No one was going to die that night.

I have enjoyed working on this project, and it truly brung out the anguish feeling out of me! I'd like to thank, **LadyKayoss **Glad to see you like the song! I love it too!), **Duel, Battle, and War,** **Bakudon** (andI look forward for more on 'A New Dawn'!), **Moonjava** (next chapter is next? I understand! typo, huh? Gets it all the time, this one says), **hazelle**, (a sequel huh? You really want one?) **LordLanceahlot**, and everyone else thatI did not include or didn't review but enjoyed it and read it.

Sayonara!

oh and by the way:

_"The grace of our lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen." Revelation 22:21_


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